


Nicolle

by Amaryllis_Namikaze



Category: Original Work
Genre: Alternate Universe - Supernatural Hunters, Amnesia, Angst, Banshees, Drama, Eventual Fluff, F/M, Kitsune, Memory Loss, Mythology - Freeform, Romance, Supernatural Elements
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-12
Updated: 2019-05-11
Packaged: 2020-03-01 07:30:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 8,630
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18795784
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amaryllis_Namikaze/pseuds/Amaryllis_Namikaze
Summary: Lily Summer is an average girl in every definition of the word - except for the tiny-teeny fact that she can't remember her own name. Lily has no memories of who she is, where she came from and how old she might be. Her only connections to her past are two small tattoos.Living with a family that took her in a couple of years ago, Lily can pretend to be a normal teenage girl and, little by little, start to have a life. However, the meeting with a strange boy named Ryoma may change all her plans to lay low. He not only knows her, but is quite insistent on her name not being Lily Summer and her not being average in any way or form.





	1. Prologue

I heard something break - and it took me a brief moment to realize it had been _me_.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lily Summer has a strange encounter with a strange boy with a strange name.

Not for the first time, I took one look around me.

            The sky was a gorgeous shade between red and orange, colors twisting in a way that reminded me of a child's painting. Despite being winter time, it was hot like always. The sand under my feet was soft, giving away with each step I took.

            The landscape was breathtaking. No one would say otherwise. Early as it was, with the sun peeking out shyly in the horizon and the waves coming and going as they were in gentle bubbles, here should be just about the best place in the whole world.

            Nevertheless, silently, my distaste for it could only grow.

            Marco Island was paradise in every meaning of the word - stunning beaches, cheerful people, a good place to live. I - perhaps the only one to do so - disagreed. It wasn't the city itself, of course not. Not even its population. Not even the house I lived in.

            This city's biggest problem was _me_ \- even though I couldn't explain why. There was something quite baffling about my presence here.

            I sighed, interrupting my train of thoughts. I briefly looked up, noticing the way the sky was gradually turning bluer with each passing minute. People were starting to arrive with their beach chairs and groups of friends. I hurried along to a patch of sand where I couldn't see the crowd invading.

            I was more familiar with this area than I wanted to admit. Emma had said I should stop coming here and _torturing_ myself, but I ended up here one way or another in spite of her advice.

            Of course I wasn't expecting to trip on someone along the way. It was just my luck that said person looked like he was having the worst morning of his entire life. Had his peculiar appearance not made me double take for a moment, I was sure I could've scurried away like a mouse afraid of the cat.

            "Hmm."

            Oh, God. It was the grunting of someone who had been awoken against their will.

            "I'm sorry." I hurried to say. "I didn't see you."

            _That's obvious,_ his face told me as he got up from the towel he'd been previously lying down on. His expression froze when he took one glance at me, but I didn't notice at first, too busy registering his features.

            He looked distinctly Asian to me, even though his eyes were as western as they come. His slightly tanned face matched well with his seemingly thick, coal-black hair. However, what really caught my attention was the color of his eyes. Dark violet. From a far away distance, it could've been blue. Close as I was, it was unmistakably violet colored.

            Violet colored - just like mine.

            "I'm sorry," I said once again, both wanting and not wanting to finish this conversation. "I wasn't paying attention to where I was going."

            The young man stood still, facing me. Staring at me. His violet eyes blinked once, twice. Thrice. I was about to speak up, but he finally decided to blurt out something.

            "Nick?"

            My name wasn't Nick.

            I most certainly did not know this young man.

            Why did it look like he recognize me? He looked at my face like I was about to ghost away.

            "Ah, I'm sorry," I said like a broken disk. Wasn't I full of apologies today? "I think you mixed me up with someone else."

            I tried to break the news as gently as possible. The young man seemed ridiculously hopeful. I wasn't this _Nick_ person; his violet eyes shouldn't be glowing like that.

            Violet colored - just like mine.

            "Nick!" He exclaimed, sounding delighted.

            Was that all he could say? The young man quickly stood up and made as if to hug me, but I took a step back, surprised. I did not know him, of that I was sure.

            "I'm not Nick, I'm sorry," I insisted. "My name is Lily, Lily Summer. Nice to meet you."

            The last part probably sounded like a question, but beggars can't be choosers.

            "No," the young man denied, as if he could know me more than I did myself. "You _are_ Nick."

            "I'm quite sure my name is Lily."

            Not _that_ sure. I wasn't about to admit it, though.

            "I wouldn't forget your face, silly. I know who you are."

            _But I don't know you, stranger._

"I'm not Nick," I repeated, trying to remain patient and kind.

            A marine breeze made long strands of my hair smack me in the face. Under watchful violet eyes, I threw them to the side uncaring. These eyes were observing me with childish glee.

            "Nick, stop playing with me," his voice hesitated for a moment. "I'm Ryoma, remember? Taller, a little different, but still me."

            I didn't know of any Ryoma fellow. I hadn't ever heard about the name Ryoma. Who even had such a unique name? Taking a look at the distinct individual in front of me, my answer came swiftly.

            Violet eyes glued to an anxious face were still observing me, however. I wasn't the type of person capable of crushing people's hope. James was always saying how I'm too obsequious to my own good—

            "Nick, please."

            —except when someone keeps stepping on my toes.

            "I'm not called Nick. My name is Lily," I said, starting to get mad. I felt a blush creeping up on my cheeks, like it usually did when I got agitated.

            Of course my name wasn't Nick. It was Lily. It always had been Lily. Why would it _not_ be Lily?

            Ryoma didn't look too sure of that. He grabbed my wrist for moment, before I could even think about dodging away. He showed me what I already knew was there and had traced over with my fingertips countless times: a tiny tattoo that could fit into the palm of my hand. A bow curved around the tips with a poised arrow, ready to shoot, and two half-painted circles with the filled sides turned towards the weapon. The arrow itself was uncommon, for it had two pointy tips in the shaft close to the bullet point.

            I wondered how he knew about it, starting to get truly scared.

            "See?" He asked, triumphantly. "I have a tattoo just like yours on my upper back. Nick¸ _you_ , had one on your left wrist. And here it is."

            I felt a feeling of unexpected stubbornness tip toe closer to my chest. It was shy, but there. It gave me enough courage to snatch my wrist close to me once again.

            I gave the Japanese wannabe in front of me the stinky eye.

            With a last firmly spoken "My name is Lily", I ran. The young man - Ryoma - seemed stupefied for the briefest of moments, before taking off after me, shouting non-sense like "Wait!" and "Nick!". As if I would stop.

            We were attracting attention, I realized. I would never get away like this, on the beach. I turned around a corner, going for the city. Breathless, it was only after running about four blocks and hiding inside a restaurant that I misled him.

            For a second, I thought about his dark violet eyes, hopeful and shining in my direction, and regretted having been so rude. Then it came to me how Ryoma _was_ a stranger and everyone knows about stranger danger.

            He had been quite unique.

            Well, not like I was one to point fingers. I mean, I was pretty sure I was the stranger one - what with my impaired memory of who I really was. Lily Summer was, after all, a name I had come up with a couple of years ago.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lily meets up with Emma.

"Don't you think you're getting ahead of yourself?"

            I had no doubts that Emma would think me crazy. She was this type of person. Pragmatic. Realistic. She was, too, probably the only person I knew who could wear a pair of pants, a long-sleeved shirt and a black leather jacket in this weather and not looked like she was melting.

            "His eyes _were_ purple," I insisted.

            "Lily," my friend started discussing, her Irish accent getting more obvious with each word pronounced, "How many people with violet eyes exist in this world? Not that many, but surely not that few. The probability of him having these eyes and knowing you is really low. Forget this dude. Probably a psychopath. The world is full of them, you know."

            The little café we were in was cozy, not particularly noisy. The parasol over our table covered our heads from the unforgiving sun. Even winter in Marco Island was capable of burning our sensible skin - especially Emma's, who was as white as chalk.

            I took of my shades, thinning my lips in my determination.

            "I know chances are low, but what if Ryoma _does_ know me? What if he was someone from my past?"

            Emma grumbled, "Don't call him by name. You'll want to keep it."

            That startled a laugh out of me.

            "What is he, a dog?"

            "A psychopathic dog. Tell me, did you see any megalomaniacs wearing tutus on your way here?"

            " _Emma Brown!"_ I half-heartedly reprehended her sarcastic mouth, throwing a balled-up napkin towards her face. Emma battered it away without difficulty.

            There was an impish smile on her doll-like face. Her whiskey-colored, shoulder-length hair made her seem both lovely and cheeky at the same time.

            "Okay, sorry, sorry. What were you saying?" She prompted me.

            "His eyes were darker than mine, maybe, but that doesn't change the fact they were violet colored. _And_ he knew about my wrist tattoo. What about that, huh?"

            Emma hesitated. Her expression didn't change or anything - she liked keeping her brown-colored eyes under lock and key - but after two years of friendship, it wasn't that hard to read her tells. She was worried about something, even though she was trying not to show.

            "Lily," Emma started, gently as if speaking to a wounded animal, and I interrupted her tirade before it could start.

            "Emma, I know what you're going to say. However, Ryoma could really be someone linked to my past. If you were in my place, wouldn't you like to know about yourself? About what really happened _before you woke up in a goddamn beach with no previous memories of who you were?"_

I was tearing up by the end. Crybaby.

            Emma sighed. She put a hand on my shoulder, both comforting me and apologizing at the same time.

            "I'm sorry, Lily. But, even so, don't you think it's dangerous to look for him? And, either way, this Ryomei—"

            "—Ryoma."

            "— _Ryoma_ could be anywhere by now. It's safer to leave it be."

            The way she said it made me squint at her. Emma was pragmatic, yes, entirely sensible, no. She would be the first one in our friendship to try everything, including bungee jumping (a long story). However, here she was, telling me what was safer and whatnot. Sometimes, she didn't make any sense.

            "Emma, you're one of the few people who know about my memory situation. The only one besides the McKinleys. You, more than anyone, should understand me."

            She twisted her mouth, frowning. Her expression didn't match her thin chin and upturned nose.

            "Lily, it's not that I don't get you, it's just that, well, Ryoma, he isn't...—"

            "Ryoma? Emma, you pronounce his name as if you knew him," I said, sharing this strange sensation I'd been having ever since we started talking.

            Brown eyes widened, Emma vehemently denied with her head. She breathed in deeply, schooling her features into a diplomatic face.

            "I don't know him, of course," her voice was cautiously emitting each sound, the lack of her Irish accent showing an unusual show of hesitation. "I'm only worried for you, that's all. He _could_ be a psychopath."

            It was obvious she was dodging my question, so, giving up entirely, I rolled my eyes.

            I grabbed my purse, leaving ten dollars on the table to cover our expenses. This discussion was heading quite obviously nowhere and I was done even thinking about it. I had spent the last two days trying to comprehend why, for fuck's sake, a stranger would recognize me since not even I knew myself well enough.

            "It's better if I go home. Theodore and Susan might be worrying about me by now. I told them I'd be back a couple of hours ago."

           "Right," Emma agreed, but got a hold of my wrist before I could walk away. She looked me in eyes, more serious than I'd ever seen. "Lily, promise me you'll forget about Ryoma."

            She was still speaking his name as if she knew him - or, at least, of him. The tiny hairs on my nape were standing up on their own and I had the distinct impression that someone was looking at me.

            Quite suddenly, I blinked. A feeling of  dizziness hit me like a spell.

            "I promised," I said, feeling as if I was flying away.

            I felt light. The voice coming out of my mouth wasn't mine, even though my chin had moved up and down accordingly. I blinked once again, harder, trying to shoo the sensation away.

            "Until next time, then," Emma waved me goodbye and disappeared on the next corner.

            Still feeling slightly dizzy, I started walking toward the house where I lived.

 

            The feeling left me as suddenly as it came. I tried to think of a reason why dizziness would hit me so spontaneously, but gave up. Too many mysteries for one week. Maybe _I_ was the one about to turn psycho from all this madness.

            The house was noisy when I arrived, like always. It gave a homey feeling all this noise, although it made me feel like an intruder at times, even after two years. I never mentioned it. The McKinleys were too good for me - they didn't deserve to hear all my insecurities.

            Dylan was the first one I saw seeing as he was - no surprise there - in front of the TV in the living room playing his videogame. I wasn't sure which game was this time, but, judging by his agile finger, focused blue eyes and sweat under his blond-colored brow, it seemed a quite nice game.

            "Hello, Dylan."

            "Hi, Lily," he said back, without taking his eyes of the screen.

            I bit back a smile. Typical Dylan.

            "Want to know what I saw on my way back?"

            "What?"

            _Pow, pow, pow_. He pressed down the _x_ button repeatedly and the man, who must have been the villain, fell in an ungracious pile on the ground. Something exploded on the screen, but I couldn't be sure of what.

            " _Devil May Cry_ in the stores," I practically sing-sang. His blue eyes ignored the way his character got shot as they turned towards me.

            Dylan stood up, all excited like a puppy.

            "Really?" I nodded. " _MOM!"_

I smiled as I saw him hurry away towards the kitchen, where Susan was making dinner and humming. Dylan was about two years younger than me, all gangly limbs, but due to his height, we looked the same age. I was sure he'd be taller than even his brother.

            I heard James speaking up from the middle of the stairs.

            "I still don't know how you always know about games arriving on the physical stores before him."

            My smile widened.

            "Your brother absentminded, James, that's all."

            He took one strand of blond hair from his eyes, the color just like his brother's. His face was pin-pointed by freckles - some natural, some from the sun he spent so much time under.

            "Hardly. Anyway. Dad asked me to tell you that a friend of yours called."

            I frowned. I didn't have that many friends. I had acquaintances. I was exactly popular in school (except my notorious habit of making questions about mundane, well-known facts). Most people I hanged around with was because of Emma, who never left me by myself. Bottom line, it was easier to pretend to be normal and functional around people who knew my secret.

            "Which one?"

           "A Ryoma guy or something. Weird name," he shrugged, obviously uncaring. "Never heard of him. Where did you meet the guy?"

            I tried to look as disinterested as James.

            "Emma's friend from her German classes."

            _Saved by the bell_ , I thought, relieved for thinking quickly. I was a terrible liar. Lying to the people who took me in when I was lying alone on the beach with nowhere to go? Almost impossible.

            Theodore and Susan McKinley were a generous miracle in my memory-impaired life.

            "Okay then. I'm going out. Miles called. Tell Mom and Dad I went out. Bye!" And there he went like a hurricane down the streets. I locked the door and passed along his message.

            Inside, I felt like a whirlpool of emotions.

            Ryoma had called.

            I met him about two days ago, but somehow, someway, he'd managed to secure my telephone number. How had he managed? He didn't know I lived with the McKinleys - I hadn't ever mentioned their names. To be truthful, I hadn't said many things besides "I'm not Nick" and "My name is Lily".

            What did he want, after all?

            He could a psychopath, Emma had said. I wasn't too keen on that. His face, his eyes, his expression, nothing made him seem like a bad guy. He seemed honest and eager. Well, who knows.

            _At least_ , I said to myself, comfortingly, _the end of this day was normal._


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Emma needs help - she's just kind of weird about it.

Unfortunately, I later found out, only the end of the evening was great. I was rudely awoken by my phone a few hours later.

            Wishing I'd been born in an era without this rather annoying technology, I tried to focus on what was written in the screen. I rubbed my tired eyes, letting out a giant yawn. The small letters on the phone's screen wouldn't stop spinning, for goodness' sake.

            _Help._

I sighed. What a waste of time. I was about to lay back down when the words registered in my mind. Laying down with the blanket up to my elbows, looking at the ceiling in the dark, I moved my lips, mimicking the message Emma had sent me.

            _Help._

            It had a strange texture in my mouth. It was an anomaly.

            Emma had never asked for _'help_ '. She had sent me countless messages about all kinds of things in the middle of the night, of course. All of them spoke about insomnia, emergencies, boredom, laziness, tiredness - even though the last one was a weird topic to send late at night - but never had she been so brief.

            _Help._

            It'd been typed fast, evidenced by the accidental letter _A_ in the middle. There were no annoying nicknames, no goodbyes, no playing tone. She was serious and that, more than anything, made me stand up, walk away from my bed towards the door. I stopped for a moment to wear a pair of pants and a hoodie over my nightgown, pulling on sneakers and taking James' bike from the garage.

            The night was serene, the Moon a bright shape in the sky and the wind a relatively warm breeze. I had no idea what Emma would require of me, but, being the first friend I'd ever had, I would not hesitate to help her in whichever way I could.

            I remembered with bitterness my first days in this city. I remembered feeling lost and out of place. My memory was an endless blank in my mind - not even my real name could be uttered. My appearance had been an uncharted land until I'd taken a peek in a mirror. I'd created my own identity. Everyday at school I would be called upon in the attendance sheet and be reminded of my lost memories.

            Emma had been the only one to notice my discomfort with my name. She'd seen how quiet and withdrawn I was, seen how much I used to hate the name _Lily_. She'd been the one to help me overcome my disgust for the name Lily Summer and the one to introduce me to her friends, which eventually became my - sort of - friends.

            Emma had been patient with my apparently stupid questions about seemingly normal things or my behavior not unusually out of norm. Little by little, Emma became my best friend. She was the only one outside the McKinleys who knew my secret.

            She didn't pity me. She didn't despise me for lying. She didn't say everything was going to be alright. Emma had smiled and said she'd be there when I finally remembered who I was. This girl I befriended a couple of years ago was so childish and clumsy, but at the same time the most mature person I'd ever met.

            That was why I didn't care about the late hour, the darkness around me, not even about what could happen to me when I reached Emma's house. For this girl, my best friend, I'd do anything.

 

            The house itself was far away from downtown Marco Island. It was isolated in a dead-end street with wasteland around it. It wasn't my first time seeing it, though Emma tried not to take me there. She said her parents were weird and I didn't bother questioning her, not wanting to invade her privacy, even though this couldn't be the real reason why she wouldn't want me in her home. Still, every time I did manage to visit her and see her house, it was like a first time experience.

            The house wasn't all that special outside. A two-story home painted in pastel color, white-wooden windows and a double front door that always creaked when opened. Unlike most houses in Marco Island, this one had a picket fence around it, even if ancient-looking and broken in some parts. The grass was green and plush, but ridiculously tall due to lack of caring.

            Inside, however, all the rooms were cared for, homely and comfortable. There wasn't a speck of dust to be seen. It was like entering another world, completely different from the street outside, which was bleak and dismally abandoned. I couldn't imagine why a family who'd take such good care of the inside of the home couldn't care less about the outside of it.

            Maybe Emma's excuse of her parents' weirdness wasn't, well, an excuse? Who knew.

            This small house was burning up, flames illuminating the night like a night lamp would in a dark room. I didn't remember how I reached the house - slowly, calmly or quickly in a panicked motion? - but I watched this horror show with my mouth agape.

            My hand sneaked toward my hoodie's pocket, feeling around for my phone. _Help_. Emma had asked for help. I blinked, trying to understand what was happening in front of me when a wooden window peeled away from the wall like a wet paper and fell to the ground.

            Emma had asked for help, I repeated to myself. Why was her house up in flames? The smell of burning wood was so disgustingly strong that it took me a moment to realize Emma could still be inside.

            There were no screams of pain, however. Only the creaks of breaking, burning wood could be heard filling the uncomfortable silence.

            "Lily?" A hoarse voice called me. I felt a shiver run through me at the familiar Irish accent.

            "Emma, I—" I was saying, but stopped, turning toward the voice.

            Although I was immeasurably happy hearing Emma fine and whole, it was still strange to _see_ her fine and whole. Her house was burning up - and so were, it seemed, her parents - but here she was in front of me, wearing the same clothes from earlier this afternoon, not one whiskey-colored hair out of place.

            Emma wore a serene expression on her face. Her voice was calm when she spoke, "Lily, why are you here? It's late. You should go home."

            I was about to reply, but something in her tone made me pause. It was controlled, unruffled in spite of the situation. Her face wasn't frowning in worry, her eyebrows weren't shooting up in curiosity like they usually did. Emma didn't want to _really_ know why I was there - she only wanted me gone. It was as if, with her gentle words, she was kicking me out of her house.

            "You called me," I whispered by way of a response, feeling lost. The dizziness that hit me this afternoon while saying goodbye to Emma came over me once again. My feet moved, as if I was about to walk, but the decision to do so wasn't mine.

            "I've never called you, Lily. I'm perfectly fine."

            Her brown eyes smiled at me and, for the briefest of moments, I smiled back, before blinking and frowning. I didn't want to smile back. I wanted to shake Emma by the shoulders and ask her what was wrong. Where were her parents? Why was her home burning up? Why was she so calm?

            However, I didn't have the chance. Emma's crinkled up like mine had done seconds before and her eyes squinted as if the brightness from the flames bothered her. She shook her head and, finally, came back to herself. Emma took one look around with wide eyes and saw me standing there, frozen and confused. Her hands caught me by the upper arms in a grip of steel, shaking me in desperation.

            "Lily! Thank God! I was so worried you'd been taken!" She stopped rambling to hug me tightly. I felt her arms circling my smaller body and tried to comprehend the sudden change of personality.

            I was _so_ lost.

            "They came so suddenly, there was nothing I could do. Do you know where they went? Gosh, I feel like a hammer hit me in the head," she complained out of nowhere. Her browns eyes, so untroubled before, were drowning in a sea of attention, travelling from side to side, searching for something I could not see.

            "Emma, why did you send me a message asking for help? What about your parents? And who are _they_?"

            At first, she didn't answer me, letting go of my upper arms and walking around looking for something. I stood still. Maybe I should've stayed home? It was dark around me, and even though the winter weather was warm from the flames close to me, I was shaking in my sneakers, afraid of the unknown.

            "Emma," I said once again. My exasperated tone made her look at me. I was a patient person. Hardly ever did I have reasons to get annoyed.

            She turned her lips up, but not happily.

            "I swear I didn't want to call you, Lily. I swear. But you were the only one who could help me in this."

            "In what?" I questioned, starting to feel my head spin.

            "In closing a deal."

            Ok, I bit the bait.

            "In a deal about what?"

            She observed my face quite despondently.

            "In a deal about whether I live or not, of course."


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Daniel Gómez is scary and Ryoma Kurokage is annoying. No surprises there.

I froze at her reply and that's when I heard a laugh. It wasn't a happy laugh, nor was it evil or sarcastic. It was a masculine laugh, forced as if by politeness. I was puzzled at who would laugh like that before seeing to shadows coming from the flaming house, practically destroyed at this point.

            My first - stupid - thought was _Talk about dangerous, walking into a house going up in flames_. Despite coming from it, said figures seemed fine and spotless.

            The first figure was taller, a dark-skinned guy with chocolate curled hair that reminded me of a sheep, even though his muscles and perfect posture made him seem more of a predator than prey. His violet-colored eyes twinkled in the night as would a feline's. The second shadow, I recognized with shock, was Ryoma.

            _Great_ , a sarcastic part of my mind contributed to my second immediate thought, _as if the night wasn't weird enough already._.

            "You've waiting for us, Miss Brown, yes? Sent your parents back to Ireland, I suppose?" The sheep-predator guy asked. Emma nodded, even though the question made no sense to me. "Smart of you, I should say. Our superiors, lucky you, sent us to question your reasons and judge accordingly."

            Emma let out a thin, cynical smile form on her lips, seemingly saying without words _as if_.

            "Your argument?"

            "I wished for better living conditions," Emma replied. I frowned. This didn't seem like a good enough reason, whatever for.

            Unfortunately, the sheep-predator guy with purple eyes - seriously, how many people had this color of eyes in the world? And what were the chances of them all congregating in Florida? - seemed to agree with me. Ryoma was silent, observing me with the same pleading eyes of two days ago.

            "You need better than that if you want to live."

            "A strange aura covered the country and compelled me to come?" Emma tentatively asked and the boy - more of a man, to be honest - pondered, shaking his head.

            What in the world were they talking about?

            "I don't think so. Our superiors won't be satisfied if we let you go. You're well aware of the fact that your kind can't live outside of Ireland without a license. _Why_ are you here?" The last words were said carefully.

            Wait. Your kind?

            "I'm well aware, thank you, Mister Hunter." _Hunter?_ "However, my family needed a change of places, if you catch my drift. Even you don't American yourself."

            Mr. Hunter, whoever that was, smiled pleasantly, saying, "You're correct. I'm Brazilian, though my father is Spanish and my mother, Portuguese. Thank you for the interest in my genealogical tree. I'm an holos like you and quite unlike my partner here."

            What the hell was an holos? And why did his genealogy tree matter? Or Emma's? Their polite, friendly voice was giving me shivers.

            "Oh, yes," Emma's eyes looked at Ryoma. She smiled. "Nice to meet you, Mr. Ryoma. My friend told me about your, ah, happy meeting a couple of days ago. Her aura must've caught your attention? My fault, no doubt. She stinks of me, I'm afraid."

            I frowned for the nth time. Ryoma didn't change his expression at my friend's words, but his partner's eyebrows shot up in entertained skepticism.

            "Oh, really?" Mr. Hunter inquired with a slight smile. "Ryoma never told me about this meeting. His head must've rather full of other thoughts."

            Ryoma winced. Emma nodded, patiently, and made a gesture as if saying _never mind_. I finally couldn't take it anymore.

            "What in the hell happening here?" The words escaped before I could swallow them back.

            Three pairs of eyes stared back at me - two of them violet-colored, one of them brown-colored. All of them carrying something unknown.

            "Ah, Miss Summer. Your friend was too eager to tell us of you. Pity she has to go."

            "Go? Go _where_?"

            The guy stopped smiling to look at me serious. Emma unconsciously stepped in closer. Ryoma tensed in his place. I couldn't even breathe while waiting for... what?

            "A place I'm afraid you cannot accompany her."

            He took an object similar to a lighter out of his pocket, though it evidently wasn't one. He pointed at me just before Emma threw herself in front of me, blocking me from view with her arms. She was close her hair hit my chin with the sudden wind swirling around us.

            "If you dare to do so, I'll scream."

            It didn't seem like the most dangerous of threats, but it made Mr. Hunter pause. Emma kept on saying, more confidently than before.

            "You can feel her aura, can't you? It's not me, at all. She's one of you, even without knowing, and you can see that. It wasn't my presence that drove you here to Marco Island," Emma seemed reluctant to admit this fact, but continued firmly, "You can't wipe out her memory. She barely has any, either way."

            Emma wasn't finished, but Ryoma interrupted her with the expression of someone who had seen death. His face reminded me of when I saw him last - dark violet-colored eyes wide as saucers, anxiously searching for something in me I couldn't give.

            "What do you mean _She barely has any?_ "

            "Lily woke up two years ago with no memories of who she was."

            I tried to feel betrayed. She was revealing my deepest secret to two strangers, after all. I was so puzzled at the happenings, on the other hand, that I couldn't feel anything but lost.

            "Of course I knew something about her was different the moment I met her. Her presence wasn't completely human. When I saw her eyes, I knew for sure."

            My eyes? My presence? Not human? My thoughts came in shards and I tried to pierce them together as to make sense, but nothing in this night made any sense. Emma protectively standing in front of me, Ryoma with his anxious features, a predator-like guy who apparently wanted to wipe my memory and take Emma someplace I couldn't go. Could this get any weirder?

            Mr. Hunter's violet-colored eyes stared in my direction. I noticed, briefly, they were lighter than mine, lilac as opposed to purple or Ryoma's dark bluish hue. Ok, not normal. Nothing was normal.

            He walked closer. Emma reluctantly stepped away from me, giving him space. My chin got caught in his hand. He observed me as if I was the most curious species to ever be discovered, if cautiously.

            I tripped back. Ryoma was quick to intervene.

            "Daniel," so _that_ was Mr. Hunter's name. "Leave her alone. I told you about her before—"

            "Yes. Your little friend. Ryoma, we're on a mission. Try not to let your personal life rule over our need to complete this task."

            Despite the tough words and the uncaring expression, Daniel spoke softly, almost pityingly. _He didn't seem like the bad guy_ , my subconscious realized in the middle of all this madness, _just a professional, responsible for his actions._ Like an executive in an important meeting - ruthless, with only one goal.

            "Daniel, you know I can't do this. Not with her."

            Daniel sighed, releasing my chin. I swallowed hard, feeling relieved when he took some steps back. His eyes made me fidget. I shot one look at Emma and she nodded, agreeing as if she could sense my thoughts.

            Good to know I wasn't the only one afraid of Daniel.

            "Can someone, please, explain to me what is happening?" I asked not for the first time, I'm sure. I stuttered in fear, but still managed to plead, which made me proud of myself.

            Emma turned towards me with guilt written all over her face while the other two stayed quiet as a mouse. Her hand grabbed mine in a comforting gesture.

            "I told you, I swear I didn't want to call you. I just felt like it was high time to tell you what I hid from you for two years. Not to mention this deal over my life and everything."

            I paused.

            "What you hid from— Emma, what are you talking about?"

            I didn't want secrets and betrayals. I wanted answers. Who was I, what was happening, who were these people, why was Emma so worried? And - a stubborn part of my mind reminded me - what did Ireland have to do with all this nonsense?

            Emma drew circles in the back of my hand with her thumb, her head hanging low. Ryoma was reaching forward with his hand, as if trying to comfort me too despite not being courageous enough to do so. Daniel let his hands resting in the pockets of his pants, the hint of a tattoo showing under the sleeve of his T-shirt.          

            Finally, Emma looked up, her chocolate-y orbs drilling holes into my eyes.

            "I'm not human, Lily. Neither are you."


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lily isn't human. Who would have thought?

I waited for a laugh that never came.

            My thoughts were scrambled in an imaginary frying pan, becoming a mess of incoherency and confusion. Emma was still looking at me, her hands holding mine in a worried way. Daniel was perfectly still, his strange lighter-alike object positioned in the palm of his hand, as if saying _It takes just one wrong move_. Ryoma was twitching in his place nervously.

            No one laughed. No one smiled. No one spoke.

            Even so, it couldn't be true. A denial would come, I was sure. After all, how could I not know if I was human or not? I hadn't shown any strange powers, nor did I have a different anatomy from other sixteen-year-old girls. I didn't read minds. I couldn't spit fire from my mouth like a heroine from a supernatural movie.

            Why the heck were they looking at me so seriously?

            "Emma," I managed to stammer out, "that's not funny."

            "Lily, please, you _have_ to believe me. You're not human. _I'm_ not human."

            A small part of my mind decided to focus on this statement.

            "Then what are you?"

            "A banshee."

            I cocked my head sideways, showing my incredulity. The term wasn't familiar in any way, though it made my hair stand on end. I asked myself if the fact she was something I'd never heard about that gave me the chills, before deciding that it didn't matter _what_ Emma was. Nothing mattered except for our friendship. These couple of years in which I've known her had changed - or basically built from scratch - my entire personality.

            "Miss Brown," Daniel, the hunter, interrupted with a surprising amount of politeness for someone who had just about threatened us, "I ask that you save the explanations for later. We cannot stay in this city anymore, not after announcing our arrival so... loudly."

            Emma frowned, puckering her lips distastefully.

            "You were the one who invaded my home, tried to confound my friend _and_ wipe her memories, threatened to kill me! Don't you dare rush me! If I have to die either way, wait a damn minute!"

            I watched wide-eyed the scene unfold in front of me. Her careless way of speaking, not to mention her anger, made me uneasy. Daniel planned to kill Emma or take her away somewhere I could not go, that much I understood. I just couldn't see why she was being so _blasé_ about it. I thought every human would want to live, either way or another.

            _Well_ , a small voice answered in my mind, _Emma's not exactly human, is she_?

            I sniffed disdainfully. _Touché_.

            Emma looked at me once again after sending one last glare at Daniel.    

            "Banshee," she said quickly, as if afraid of Daniel interrupting her one more time, "is a female spirit from the Irish mythology. We are seen as messengers of Death.

            Ok. One: I was pretty sure my best friend was _too_ solid to be a spirit. Number two: _messengers of Death_? Talk about depressing. I must have looked to incredulous, because she kept going onward with her weird facts.

            "I know it sounds unbelievable, but I swear it's all true, Lily. Please, _please_ , trust me. We don't have time for the why's and how's, _thanks to someone_ , but please believe me. I'm a banshee - and you're not human."

            "Emma, if I'm not human..." I stopped, afraid to ask. Should I ask? Did I want to know? Maybe ignorance was a bliss. "If I'm not human, what am I?"

            However, it wasn't Emma who answered. It was Ryoma.

            "I've told you before, Nick, I'd never forget you. Just like me and Daniel, you're a hunter. We're here because the higher-ups told us about a family of banshees in a Floridian city. I wasn't expecting to find you ever again, much less here."

            Before he could go on, I said, stubbornly, "And _I_ 've told you before that my name is not Nick, it's Lily."

            Daniel sighed, crossing his arms.

            "Actually, Miss Brown, even _I'm_ inclined to believe my partner here, as seldom as that happens. The probability of you being who he says is getting higher and higher by the minute. I  wouldn't bet against it, at least. And if Ryoma is in fact correct, your name, Lily Summer, is a pseudonym created about... a couple of years ago, is that right?"

            Daniel turned to his partner questioningly. Ryoma wasn't looking at him, however, when he replied. His violet-colored eyes were staring right into mine, searching for something I couldn't give.

            "A month or so before we became partners was when she disappeared without trace, so, yeah, a couple of years ago sounds right."

            "Yes," Daniel agreed. "As I was saying, Lily Summer is pseudonym created about two years ago."

            I gulped, trying to push down my uneasiness. On one hand, I wanted to cross my arms as if mimicking a stubborn child e deny all their cold, hard facts. Emma _was not_ a banshee, I _was not_ a hunter or Nicolle Bell. On the other hand, I was bouncing all over the place, excited and scared at the possibilities this strange reality brought me, ready to accept it if it meant discovering my forgotten past.

            "Well, what if it is a pseudonym?"

            I planned to say it loudly. Confidently. Maybe even daringly. It came out, though, as a weak meow from a coward kitten. Just great. My words, or maybe my tone, who knows, made Ryoma frown - as if the way I pronounced the words came out wrong.

            Daniel's right eyebrow shot up elegantly. God, everything the guy did was like a panther moving through the jungle or something.

            "If it _is_ a fake name, that means you're probably Nicolle Bell and you're a trained-for-combat hunter just like us."

            _Nicolle Bell._

It was an unfamiliar name. It didn't make any alarming bells go off in my head. I was perfectly still, not believing for a second that I'd just heard my possible real name. It couldn't be that simple.

            How much time had I spent on the McKinleys' house, trying to make myself remember? Trying to bring something so long ago buried deep down? How many hours had I spent next to Emma, trying to understand normal human behavior and emotion? How many months had I waited for a memory, for a breath of my past?

            Nicolle Bell. I desperately wanted to grab onto that name - to change it into a life boat to navigate in this sea of memories and uncertainty. Doubt drowned me constantly. The blank spaces of my life were my name, my birth place, my parents, my relatives. Everything was wiped clean .

            Even so, even with this gleaming opportunity in front of me, I decided to lay it to rest. I grabbed the cuffs of my sweater as I always do when I get nervous, walking towards my bike thrown by the pavement.

            "Lily, where are you going?"

            Emma's soft Irish accent didn't stop me.

            "Miss Summer, I would advise you against leaving us. Now that you're aware of who and what you are, your powers won't stay asleep."

            This made me pause for the briefest of moments, before I decided that my powers - whatever they were - awakening weren't worth staying in this madness. I wanted to go back to my bed, stay hidden under the covers and maybe pretend I had the most vivid nightmare of my life.

            All I wanted, after all, was to be normal. Average in every other way. To fi in. You name it. Even if I wasn't exactly the American way-of-life guide rule, I was getting there (or I thought I was). Not that being found on the beach with no clue of who you are was normal, but creating a fake ID, trying to live alongside people whose behavior made me doubtful and living in a house full of kind strangers who acted like your family was - well, almost normal. Like I said, I'd get to average someday.

            This story was giving me a headache. All their facts were starting to creep me out.

            "Nothing will be the same after all this, Miss Summer," Daniel said. My God, does this guy never shut up? His formal way of speaking was getting on my nerves. "Your aura will unconsciously expand and, one way or another, more hunters will show on your doorstep when your presence cannot be ignored anymore."

            Being ignored would be a privilege right now. Ryoma speaking up was what made me stop, however.

            "Well, I suppose you can't be Nick. She'd never turn her back to dangerous situations like you're doing now."

            I paused, feeling an unfamiliar ball of restlessness in my chest. I was furious, but not why one would usually be after being told this. I couldn't care less about being called a coward. I had tendency to escape from hard places, true. But Ryoma had no right to tell me I _wasn't_ Nick. Not after running around shouting to the seven winds that I was. Not after giving me a piece of hope.

            I was my own person - and no stranger would tell me otherwise.

            "Look, I'm having the worst night of my life, the last thing I need is a stupid Japanese lookalike telling _me_ what _I_ am or am not!"

            Instead of reacting angrily, Ryoma unexpectedly smiled.

            If anything, his reaction made me angrier. Seeing that I was this close to hitting his face with my fist, Ryoma shot his hands up in a gesture that clearly said _Calm down_. His smiled was widening parallel to my annoyance.

            "Why are you laughing, you thing?"

            He laughed in delight.

            Daniel rolled his lilac eyes, no doubt used to his partner's antics. I breathed in deep and tried to reign in my emotions.

            Everything was so confusing. Emma and her mysteries. Daniel  and Ryoma coming out of nowhere and deciding I was a type of species I'd never heard about before. My frayed memories.

            Why did these two had to come and take Emma? Why couldn't everything stay just like before? After two years, I could finally see a smidge of light at the end of the average life tunnel, I was _finally_ getting how to interact like a normal human being - only to get sidetracked by a couple of weirdoes who claimed to know me.

            "I'm not laughing at you," Ryoma hurried to explain with a silly smile on his face, interrupting my depressing train of thoughts. "It's just that Nick called me the same thing when we met for the first time. You're nothing like her, but, at the same time, you're her."

            I heard Emma murmur _Wow_ , _genius_ sarcastically a few steps from me. I frowned at his words.

            "I like it," Ryoma added, mistaking my expression for distaste.

            He liked bipolarity, apparently. Ok. To each his own, I guess. Obviously, I wasn't the only one with problems around here.

            Daniel clapped his hands together once to catch our attention, observing us with a serious upturn of his lips. His curls still reminded me of a sheep no matter how much I looked - even if his mannerisms reminded me of a panther with predatory lilac eyes following its prey.

            "Like I said, we need to go. Miss Brown, get whatever is left of your belongings. Miss Bell, I believe you're coming with us, hmm?"

            The way he said Miss Bell made my stomach churn. I hadn't accepted my past and name yet, so Daniel shouldn't call me such. His scary glare, though, made me keep my mouth sealed shut easily enough.

            I cleared my throat, uncomfortable.

            "I'm not, uh, I'm not going," I managed to stutter my intention. All of them were looking at me like I was some kind of idiot and I resisted the urge to take a step back.

            Suddenly, I was very much aware of the fact that none of them were humans.

            Ryoma lost his smile quicker than it came.

            "What do you mean _you're not coming_? Nick, it's dangerous for you to stay here. It's just as Daniel said - now that you're aware of our world, your power will awaken once again and you'll have to relearn how to control them. Becoming a hunter and entering the Order is a one-way road."

            Great. There's an Order and everything. What was the Order again?

            Before I could ask about it, though, Emma crossed her arms, puffing her cheeks out like a chipmunk. Real mature.

            "I understand taking me away against my will, but Lily? If she doesn't want to go, she's not going. Period."

            Her eyes were telling me _Please come_. Even begging me, I'd say. Her words were firmly spoken, but she'd rather have a friendly face on her journey with these hunters, I knew. I tried to ignore the guilty feeling bubbling in my gut. Emma had helped me more than anyone. It was more than fair to help her back, right? Still, just thinking about following these guys wherever they were going made my stomach somersault.

            I chose, instead, to bury the guilt and to feel grateful for Emma, for her help in letting me stay here in case I wanted to be normal for the rest of my life.

            Daniel, who had been getting progressively calmer as the situation went his way, was suddenly a ball of fury and impatience. He had gotten tired of Emma's daring attitude. Holding her wrist, he pulled her close so quickly that she tripped over her own feet, his face twisting into an angry snarl.

            "You _will_ listen to me, banshee. I'm not playing games and you'd certainly know if I was. You understand me?"

            It took me a second to realize the sound of someone panting was coming from Emma. She was breathless as if she'd run a marathon. Her brown eyes, usually so full of mischief, were wide as saucers.

            "Get it, banshee?"

            Emma trembled when Daniel gripped her wrist tighter. I could see a spot getting redder, each finger leaving a mark. My best friend nodded in understanding and, seeing her now scared face, I wished to be courageous enough to confront this guy myself. As I was a coward to the bone, I kept my mouth shut and full of doubts.

            "Excellent. Ryoma, let Miss Brown gather her remaining things into a bag and take her to our car. I suppose there's no problem in letting her keep her belongings - or whatever's left after the fire, I guess."

            Ryoma's eyes narrowed for a moment - and I couldn't make sense of his expression. Was he ok with his partner's decisions? It was hard to believe seeing his face, but Ryoma clearly didn't dislike Daniel from what I'd seen until then. Even so, I could see he wasn't happy with the way Daniel had talked. Obviously, he decided to cooperate with his partner in the end. He gently pushed Emma towards her burnt house and accompanied her.

            "As for you," Daniel said, turning in my direction and making the cold feeling in my gut transform into a raging blizzard, "let's go to your house."

            "Are you... letting me stay?"         

            It sounded so unbelievable to my own ears that I wasn't surprised when my hopes were crushed a second later. Daniel smiled almost kindly.

            "Of course not - but I thought you'd like to take some things on this travel, wouldn't you? Don't worry, I'll accompany you."

            I'd worry less if he didn't follow me, but it's not like I'd be brave enough to say it to his face. Not to mention the fact that I probably wouldn't come back here if left to my own devices - and Daniel agreed, no doubt.

            With that said, I turned my back to my best friend's burnt house and followed the most sinister guy I had the pleasure to meet.

**Author's Note:**

> Hello once again, guys. This work can also be found at Wattpad under the same title with a different author name. All rights reserved to me. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy.


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